A Veela's Mate
by Tory Amane
Summary: What’s if Tom Marvolo Riddle is part Veela and Harry Potter is his mate? What if the Dark Lord has been hiding behind all the untruths that his Death Eaters weaved on his orders when he’s really waiting for his mate all this time? What if Dumbledore is al
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimers: Harry Potter is not mine._

_Warning: Shonen-ai, Dumbledore bashing_

_A/n: Please review!_

_The pale hand reached out from the dark and started stroking his cheek lovingly. Harry leaned into the touch. He felt loved, something he had never felt all his life. He wanted the caress to go on forever. But he did not get his wish. The hand stopped the gentle motion and retreated back into the dark. Harry wanted to call out for it to come back but he couldn't get his vocal cord to work. _

Harry sat up straight in his bed. It was the same dream again. He had been having it since his sixteenth birthday a few days ago. Like every time, he ached for the hand to return. He closed his eyes. Ever since his birthday, he had been feeling that something was missing. That something was nagging on his mind. He couldn't concentrate on almost anything. He tried to find out what he was missing, now that the feeling was strongest. The feelings were always strongest after the dreams. But like every other times, he came up with no answers.

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. He felt empty. Harry quickly blinked back his tears. He had not cried since nine years old, not even for Sirius' death, he will not start now. _Sirius!_ At the thought of his dead Godfather, he nearly fell into depression again. Quickly, he pushed the memories away. He did not want to think about Sirius.

He desperately tried thinking other thoughts. He searched his mind for something, and finally found it. He would go back to Hogwarts tomorrow! He could see Hermione and Ron. But the thoughts did not make him as happy as the year before. With every dream, his longing for that missing something would double. The ache was becoming more and more unbearable for him.

Finally, exhausted, Harry curled up on his bed and tried to go back to sleep.

In another place, in the wizarding world, a young man was still awake. He was sitting in the dark room on the throne at the opposite of the big doors. From his expression, it was clear that he was frustrated. _What had I done wrong? Why did the dream stop every time when I was so near? I know I will see his face if the dream had continued on for another few seconds. What had gone wrong?_

"Master," a voice suddenly break through his thoughts.

"Ah, my faithful servant, what news have you brought this time? I hope, for your sake, that you bring some me useful and interesting information."

"Yes, Master. I believe this is something that is really interesting. It seems that we had been fed some lies all this year by Dumbledore."

The young man's boring look disappeared, immediately replaced with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"The Prophesy is a fake. It is made up by Dumbledore himself and only a few people know the truth. I only heard about it just now when I took a little stroll in the Ministry. I heard two of those who worked in the Prophesy Room discussing about it. They said that the fake prophesy is really the best idea to make you, Master, to go after your own mate. I couldn't hear the rest since they walked away."

Voldemort was now seething in rage. _The old coot made up the prophesy to make me go after my own mate. And I believe it, the fool me! That means my mate is…Harry Potter. _An evil smile appeared on his face. _Finally, I have a clue to where I can start looking. All I need now is to find a way to get close enough to him and make sure that he is my mate._

"Find me the address of Harry Potter. Then, we will have a little visit."

The kneeling man, who was hidden behind the black cloak and the mask nodded. "Yes, Master. I already have it. He is currently living in his aunt's house. The address is 4th Privet Drive. It is heavily guarded by wards and also Aurors."

"Good. Wards are nothing against me. However, I do not wish to kill tonight, for I do not wish to anger my mate, if he is indeed him."

"Master, perhaps we can call a few of the Elites to assist us in diverting the Aurors' attention for a while so Master, you, can go in?"

"Yes. You can arrange that. I wish to go in ten minutes' time."

"Of course, Master."

Ten minutes later, Voldemort was standing in front of the house in 4th Privet Drive. He uttered a few words and the wards surrounding the house were down, just like that. He walked to the front door, and pointed his hand at the door. "Alohomora." The door opened slowly without any sounds.

As soon as he walked in, he could smell a very sweet smell of vanilla combined with nature. He knew that it was his mate's scent. He followed the scent upstairs toward a room, which had a lot of locks on it. "Alohomora." Once again, the door opened silently.

The scent was now overwhelming. He went into the room and walked near the bed with the silhouette of a body in it, as if in trance. The nearer he got, the more aroused he was. Finally, he stood over the person sleeping on the bed. _Mine. _

The person stirred and sat up suddenly when he felt that he was no longer alone in the room. He reached over to the table besides his bed and fumbled around for his glasses. Without it, he could only see a blurred outline of someone standing besides his bed. His heart was beating furiously. As soon as he put on his glasses, he could see more clearly, but it was too dark to see the face. He knew that that intruder was a male, a young man.

"Wh…Who are you?" Harry asked softly. Surprisingly, he felt safe, an emotion he had never felt before. He felt that he should know the man. He should be someone important to him.

Harry was startled when instead of answering him, that man reached out his hand and caressed his cheek lovingly. He leaned into the loving caress instinctively. Suddenly, he knew who the man is. "You are the one from my dream. Your hand felt the same as in the dream," Harry exclaimed in astonishment.

Voldemort chuckled lightly. He had finally found his mate. _It doesn't matter that he hates me now. He will love me in the future. He is mine. _"Do you want to come with me? I promise I will not hurt you. I will explain everything later if you come with me."

Harry resisted a shiver at his voice. It was gentle and a bit seductive. "Where do you want to take me?"

"My castle. It is nice and warm with lots of space to ensure our privacy. I promise you will love it there."

Harry debated within himself. He wanted to go with him but he was scared that this was just another trap set by Voldemort. Finally, he decided to go, Voldemort and Dumbledore be damned. "Okay, but don't try anything funny."

Voldemort was ecstatic when he heard that. "Alright, I will cast a sleeping spell over you. Don't worry, I promise you no harm will come to you."

Harry thought over it for a few seconds. "Okay. Let me get dressed properly and get my things."

"Get what are important to you, things that you want to keep, for I don't think you will be coming back here."

Harry was speechless. He had always wanted to leave this Hell and a complete stranger offered the chance to you. _He is not a complete stranger. You saw him in your dreams, remember?_

"How do you know that I won't be coming back here?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"If I have my way, you will not be going out of my sight your whole life," Voldemort said, only half teasing.

"Umm…Okay. Let me go get my stuff." Harry fumbled in the dark for the switch, but was stopped by a hand.

"Don't. I don't want to alert your guards. I am not in the mood to fight them"

Harry sighed in defeat. He settled to fumbling in the dark at the floor, looking for the exact position of the loose board, where he put all his prize possessions, not wanting his aunt, uncle or Dudley to find them, his wand was among the things. He pulled all the things out and put them on the table. Then, he proceeded to get to the closet for a change of clothes, but was stopped by the stranger's voice.

"There is no need to change. We don't have much time. I can just configure some clothes for you when we arrived at my castle. Are these all you want to bring with you?"

"Well, I have nothing else that cannot be bought or that are valuable."

Harry watched as the stranger changed the things on the table to tiny-sized, and then proceeded to put them into his pocket. Then, he beckoned for Harry to come near him.

"I will cast a sleeping spell over you, so don't be afraid. I will protect you at all cost."

Harry nodded reluctantly. He did not like the idea of being asleep through the journey, but he did not want to anger the man. _More like you do not want to disappoint him._

Voldemort quickly cast a sleeping spell on his mate, in case he would change his mind. Harry slumped onto his chest. He quickly pulled him into his embrace. Then he proceeded to cast a lightening spell on his mate and carried him outside. Then, he apparated home after he told his servants to retreat through the connection they share; the Death Mark, which was different from the Dark Mark on his Death Eaters. The Death Mark was only for those he trusted. He called them Elites. They were his shadows. No one except himself and the Elites themselves knew of their existence.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers: Refer to the first page.

A/N: Thanks for your reviews. Just a warning - my chapters will be slow in coming. Please don't blame me. I have too many other things to take care of. Blame my school! And exam is coming! I want to cry. Anyway, on with the story.

The sunlight streamed in from the gap of the curtains, lighting up the otherwise dark room. There was only one word to describe the room: green. It was covered with every shades of green to ever exist – the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the doors and their frames, the bed cover, the curtains, and even the table and the chairs. Not an inch in this large room that was not green.

Harry's first thought when he opened his eyes was, '_Please let me be dreaming'. _After several blinking of his eyes and a few painful pinches on different parts his body, he admitted defeat. _Fine! So I am not dreaming and this the reality; can someone just come in and kill me off? I must be out of my mind to accept a total stranger's offer. _He shivered as his thought turned to the incidents the night before. _A Slytherin! What was I thinking? Perhaps not a Slytherin; but a Slytherin fanatic – that was sure – was worse. _

Supporting his weight with both his hands on the bed, he pushed the upper part of his body up. Raising his left hand to comb his hair, he froze – he was wearing green pyjamas! _It's emerald, _the inner him corrected. "Emerald, jade, - what does it matter? It's still green!" he shouted at himself. He stared, horrified, at the clothes. "If Ron were here, he would probably Adavra Kedavra me." _Would he? _"Probably not. He would most probably just accuse me of becoming Slytherin and then sulk," he muttered.

"And what was wrong with Slytherin?" an amused voice interrupted his 'indulgence of self-conflict'.

Harry's head snapped up so fast that a small sound of 'snap' could be heard. "Ouch!" Grabbing onto his neck, he rolled off the bed, putting it between him and the newcomer.

"Are you alright? I did not mean to scare you," the concerned voice said.

"I'm fine. And I'm not scared of you," Harry replied defiantly. If he were not afraid of Voldemort, why should he be scared of this…somebody? He tried to move his head, wanting to take a look at the man, but another "Ouch!" later, he admitted defeat. _Great! I can't move my head, I do not have my wand nor do I have a weapon; and there was a possible enemy in the room with me. What should I do now? _As far as he could see without moving his head, there was nothing that he could use as a weapon. In fact, the room looked very tidy and clean; it was as if it had not had been slept in for a long time.

"Let me take a look at your neck," the voice offered, walking closer.

Stretching his arm out, Harry stopped him. "Don't move. I do not need your help. Like I said, I'm fine."

"Oh, really? Then why are you grabbing your neck as if it would smash into pieces soon? Not to mention, your cries of pain just now?" Once again the owner of the voice sounded amused.

Harry had nothing to say to that. "Just don't come near me. Who are you anyway?"

"I am me – the person that took you away from that Merlin forsaken place you call home," the voice answered, avoiding his identity.

"It's not my home. It's…just the place I stay in during summers. Hogwarts is my home," Harry denied vehemently only to be hurt by a snort of disbelief.

"Hogwarts is a school. It is home away from home."

"It is my home!" Harry was ready to argue this for the whole day if needed be.

"Then define home to me," the voice mocked.

"A place where you're happy and wish to stay in. A place where you're accepted," Harry answered with no hesitation.

"True. I'm sure that you have your happy moments there and like to stay there but can you really say that you are accepted there? Do all the students accept you? Do the professors treat and care for you like parents would? A home is also a place where you can return to anytime when you're unhappy. Can you do that?" Instead of mocking, the voice had become softer by the end of his speech.

Harry did not answer – he couldn't. Deep in his heart, he had always known this. "It's the only home I know," he whispered.

"You have a home here with me, that is if you accept it."

Harry was so surprised at the offer that he forgot about his neck. "Ouch!" The pain was triple the first time. He dropped to his knees, clutching it. Through the haze of pain, he could feel a pair of hands forcefully removed his hands. A few spells he did not recognize later, the pain was gone. He looked up at his saviour to thank him but froze. The face in front of him came right out of his nightmare - it was Tom Riddle from the diary! Due to his training from being a seeker, his quick reflex had acted before his mind could come out of the shock. He pushed hard and scrambled onto the back to the other side and to the doors.

Tom knew the moment his identity registered in his mate's mind. Before he could stop Harry, he found himself being pushed and fell onto his back, knocking his head on the floor. "Ouch!" He could see stars dancing around in the room. As his sight cleared, he clumsily got up of the floor. Nobody dared to treat him like that. Seeing as his wayward mate was still trying to force the doors to open, he said coldly, "Do you think I will leave the doors unlocked?"

"Voldemort!" Harry snarled. He stopped his useless attempt and turned back to meet the eyes of his enemy. "Congratulations! You managed to capture the 'stupid' Griffindor." _How could I be so stupid? Now is not the time to berate myself. I need to find a way out. Think, Harry, think!_

"It is definitely not a good idea to follow someone you do not know. Someone that broke into your house and your room, I might add." If he were an expressive person, he would just admit that he was worried – his mate was too trusting in his opinion, not that he wasn't happy that his mate trusted him before he found out his identity.

To Harry's ears it sounded mocking. Although he knew it was true, he just couldn't accept it when it came from the monster that killed his parents. "You're a hypocrite, you know - half-blood that calls for the killings of the so-called mudblood and half-blood. Why don't you just go kill yourself? It would have saved the rest of us a lot of troubles and pain."

Tom's eyes flashed red for a second at the reminder of his birth and the dirty blood that ran through his veins. His hands tightened into fists. He raised his wand, a painful curse on the tip of his tongue. However, at the insolent tilt of his mate's face, he was reminded once again that this was his mate – the person he had searched for so long. He forced his rage down and tried to reason with him. "Is this how you thank the person that rescued you?"

"I would rather live there for the rest of my life than to be 'rescued' by you!"

Hurt by the remark, Tom tried to cover it by lashing back. "Fine! Then you will be locked in here – no food, no company, and no freedom." He stalked over to the doors that were just behind Harry.

Harry backed away from the looming figure. When his back hit hard surface, he changed direction and moved sideway away from the approaching Dark Lord. He never turned his back to him yet he still jumped when Voldemort slammed the door after him. Only then could he let out a sigh of relief. _Wait! _He slapped his own forehead. _I should have seized the opportunity and ran. Now the door would surely be locked again._ Sure enough, the door was as stubborn as before. He tried everything he could think of to escape from the room – kicking the door repeatedly, throwing the chairs at the window, yelling obscenities at anyone that could hear him – unsurprisingly, none worked. In the end, he fell onto the bed and was soon asleep from exhaustion.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

On the other hand, Tom, who had stormed out of the room, had proceeded to the training room and flung every single nasty curse that he knew at the immobile objects. Even when he stopped due to exhaustion, the rage was still burning strong in him. However, it was not the fury that bothered him but rather the hurt that he felt. He had always had the illusion of finding his mate and living happily after he had found out about his inheritance. Although he knew that reality was not as pretty as that, he couldn't help but held onto the hope and the dream that there was somebody out there that was born only for him and that would love him unconditionally. He was disappointed when he realized that this was not true. The cutting words from his mate's mouth hurt more than the worst Cruciatus in the world.

After an hour of moping in private, he squared his shoulder. Nothing would beat him. Harry was his, and he would win him over. He was the worst Dark Lord the world had ever seen, after all. Besides, his Veela side would never leave him alone if he did not persuade his mate to accept the bond between them. Did anyone know how annoying a Veela could be when the matter involved its mate?

A/N: So how is this? I just do not want a story where Harry straight away fell into bed with Voldie so I'm dragging this out. Please give me feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Refer to the first page.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. Just as a warning - I'll be very slow at updating from now on with all my fics. Sorry !

The bright light sneaked in from the gap between the curtains. The room lighted up in an eerie greenish colour. Hitting the surface of the mirror, the ray of sunlight hit on the face of the sleeping figure on the floor just beside the large bed.

With a moan, the figure moved a little. Opening his right eye a crack, he quickly closed it again. The glaring light had nearly blinded his eye. It might not be as bright as in the open under the sun, but for his poor eyes that had adjusted to the dark these few days, there was no difference.

Dragging his body a bit to the left, Harry opened his eyes. Before he could anything in, his eyes started to water. He blinked the tears away and renewed his efforts. When his eyes were finally used to the sudden brightness, he found that he still couldn't see clearly. Only then did he realize that he did not have his spectacles on.

The day he woke up in this room, he did not have his spectacles as well. After Voldemort had gone out and locked him in, he found them on the desk besides the table. He had been wearing them since then.

Harry frowned. What happened? His memories were so messy. After that day, the room had been cast into darkness. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of him. There was never any light until now.

Harry took a sweep around him. His sight was blurry but he knew that the room was in a mess. He remembered throwing things before the darkness came. After that, he had been stumbling around in the room; most of the time, he fell over one thing or another.

Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. Pressing his right hand to his mid-section, Harry wrinkled his face. He had lost count of how many days he had gone without food. In fact, he couldn't even know how many days had gone by even if he remembered to count. Harry leaned back onto the bed with his eyes closed.

He tried to tell himself that this was nothing. He should just endure it like he did at the Dursleys. But who was he kidding? People had lied and manipulated him for all his life. If he did that to himself as well, then he really was pathetic.

He was now really living a nightmare. As bad as the Dursleys were, at least they gave him enough sustenance to survive. They might not be the best conversationalists, but they were at any rate still living beings that he could interact with, as unpleasant as every encounter was.

Locked in the dark with nothing to do and no one to talk to, the only thing he could spend time on was thinking. He had thought long and hard - going through his memories, thinking of what he could have done differently, all the 'ifs' that could have happened, who should be blamed, and how he wished the future would be.

No matter what he thought of, he realized a few things: what came to pass had already happened - there was nothing he could do to change things. Whether he blamed himself or others he had to admit that just like making potions, several ingredients were needed. There were rules and steps to be followed or the potion would not be successful. Same, without the key people and incidents, all the tragedies in his life would not have happened. He could not put the blame solely on one person – either himself, Dumbledore or Voldemort. There was always a chain that led to the next incident. With this realization, came the understanding that he was not the only one in control of his own future but that did not mean that he should just let go and become a puppet that danced to the tune of his owner. Instead, he should work harder to accomplish what he wanted in order to get the future he wanted; he should be his own owner.

This new insight did not lessen his hatred for Voldemort though. After all, he was still only a human; he couldn't get past the feelings that if it wasn't for the monster, he would have a better life.

Harry laughed. He was contradicting himself. Muggles often said that humans needed contact with other humans in order to stay sane. He had gone for so long without that he was probably already insane. Another bark of mad laughter escaped his lips before they turned into choked sounds of cries.

Tears welled up behind his tightly closed lids but he refused to let them out. Hugging his knees, he waited for the moment to pass. Pain of hunger could never compete with pain of hopelessness – that was what he realized at that second. He did not know why, in the dark, he could still hang onto that very slight flicker of hope but now that it was bright, he felt such despondency as he had never before.

The faint click of the door opening alerted Harry of the intruder. Hastily wiping his eyes dry, he schooled his expressions into that of anger and glared at the gentle face of Tom Riddle.

"I have brought you some food." Putting down the tray full with steaming food on the table, Tom turned to look at his mate. Prickles of pain stabbed into his heart at the condition the tiny figure was in. Before this, he had never thought of Harry as tiny even though he was a bit smaller than boys of his age should be. Right now, he seemed like he had shrunk a few sizes. Guilt ate away at him but he pushed it out; he was only delivering punishment as he had said he would, he convinced himself. "Come and eat something.

The aroma of the delicious food wafted into Harry's nose reminding him even more vividly of his empty stomach. He was torn between the food and maintaining his stubborn hateful glower. In the end, his weak body made the decision for him; he couldn't find the strength to move towards the table. Thus, he continued glaring at the detestable person before him.

Tom frowned; annoyance started to creep into his being. "Don't you want to eat?" he asked his voice tight with irritation. _Damn Griffindor pride!_ "Aren't you hungry at all? It's been five days." He tried to control his rising anger.

Harry would have call the Dark Lord in front of him an idiot if he trusted his vocal cord right now but he refrained; he did not want to embarrass himself by croaking like a frog in front of the terrible monster. Instead, he settled for turning up a notch of his glare.

Tom finally couldn't stand it anymore. "Fine! If you do not want to eat, starve to death. See if I care! Hmph!" With his green robe billowing behind him, he stormed out of the room, not forgetting to lock it behind him.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as soon as he was alone once more. He slumped back against the bed. He did not remain in that position for long though. The wafting smell of the food pulled at him. As weak as he was right now, the temptation of good food was enough to give him back enough strength to drag himself to the table. A bitter smile tugged on his lips.

On the other hand, Tom was still being burnt crisp by his own fire of anger. If there was anyone there, they would definitely hear him muttering something angrily. "Stupid Griffindor! Pride would be your death. Starve yourself as much as you want. I don't care." He repeated these few sentences over and over again. Although he was moving all the time, he was making no progress to get further away from the room the culprit of his anger was in. The worst Dark Lord the world had ever seen was walking to and fro just in front of the door he had stormed out from. Luckily for him, no one was there to see his uncharacteristic actions.

"Stupid boy. Your body was already so weak yet you still want to starve…" Suddenly Tom stopped his movements and his muttering. Understanding dawned. "Why did I not think of it? He had gone five days without food; he would surely be too weak to move. He was not starving himself but just unwilling to ask for help." At the realization, Tom was about to storm right back in but he stopped with his hand on the door knob. He wanted very much to go in yet he couldn't disregard his own pride as well. What should he do? Apologize? Or should he act as if nothing had happened? Undecided, he silently opened the door a little. From the tiny crack, he saw the efforts his mate made to get to the food. He stood there just like that until he saw the boy finally eating. Only then did he stepped back from the doorway and closed it as silently as he opened it.

Leaning against the wall beside the door, Tom kept on telling himself that it was Harry's own fault for not telling him and asking for help. "Damn pride!" he cursed before he pushed away from the cold wall and walked away. It was not clear who he was scolding - Harry, himself, or the both of them.

A/N: So how was it? I know 5 days are a bit extreme but I want to show the cruelty plus the damn pride of Voldemort as well. Tell me what you think ok?


End file.
